Pretending

I'm pretending it's actually fall.

I just took a nice warm shower (partly for the soothing effect, partly because of the spit-up) with my favorite Bath and Body Works aromatherapy body wash. I've changed into my sweatpants (the ones that are hanging together by threads--the best kind) and a tank top. I've toasted some s'mores poptarts and made a cup of decaf coffee with hot chocolate mixed in. And I'm curling up on the couch wrapped in a blanket to watch some TV with my hubby.

Yes, I know it's 8:20pm and 70 degrees. But it's supposed to be fall, and I've had a rough day. And when I've had a rough day, I like to go to my happy place, which is me, all snuggled up and relaxed. And if I have to turn on all the fans and pretend I don't live in Orange County, then that's what I'll do.

To the happy place I go...

Can I do it?

So this is it. The dreaded (maybe?) day has come. Tomorrow I return to work.

There is so much I could say about this, probably all of it predictable. When I wake up in the morning, I'm supposed to wake up no longer as Shannon but as Superwoman. I'm supposed to do everything I've been doing for the last 10 1/2 weeks AND teach full time. I'm supposed to don one more hat. According to my calculations, this is a summary of the expectations: As supermom, I care for and nurture my son. As superhomemaker I do the laundry, cook healthy foods, and clean (all with organic, good for the environment products). As superwife I dote on, support, and serve my husband. As superteacher I impart knowledge in a fun, challenging way that engages all students and individualizes instruction for each learner. As supercoworker I chat with, serve, and support my fellow teachers and staff members. As superdaughter I love, serve, and support my parents. As superwoman I wear stylish clothes, do my makeup and hair every day, and weigh less than 130 pounds. As superfriend I love, support, and serve all of my friends. As supercitizen I stay current on national and world events, eat healthy, be friendly to all, and "go green." As superchristian I spend lots of time in prayer and Bible study throughout the day and volunteer at my church. And I do all of these things with a smile on my face and with great alacrity.

Who in all of creation can do all of this?

Back before two pink lines appeared on the stick, Matt and I were going to wait a few years to have kids. I was going to work for a while, and we were going to save money, pay off debt, and get to a place (or as close as possible) where I could stay at home with our kids until they went to school. And then God said "um, no." I love my new son. I love this new part of my life, this new part of me. I love it all so much, in fact, that I'm struggling with going back to that other part of me. I love teaching. I've worked long and hard to become a teacher. And, as previously discussed, I need that part of me that is seperate from Ben, that outlet of "self." And so I'm conflicted. At this point, going back to work is a must. If I don't, we can't afford to live in our cheap apartment, eat, or put diapers on Ben. Additionally, I'm only in my second year of teaching. I have to teach for two more years in order to have my clear credential. Otherwise I lose it and I have to start over.

I'm fighting this struggle on multiple fronts. In going back to work, I feel like I'm cutting out this piece of myself. But if I didn't go back, I would probably still feel that. In going back to work, I'm inviting judgement from many who believe that working mom=negligent and seflish mom. But if I didn't go back, I would be inviting judgement from many who believe that "mom" is not job enough. I typically don't care about what society thinks of me. But I do care about my heart. And right now, it's a little broken. And I'm a little nervous about my abilities to "do it all." I might be able to squeeze all of the responsibilities in. But I'm not sure about the smiles and alacrity part. So I'll try to be and do everything. But at what cost? I get all the papers graded, but I'm impatient with my students? I get all the cooking and cleaning done, but I become an over-tired and resentful wife?

Lord, please help me do this. Please help me to be everything I need to be, learn where and when to make sacrifices, and do it with a joyful and grateful heart. Dry the tears I know will fall tomorrow morning when I get in my car. Give me the strength and desire to wear every hat and do it well.

The Demise of Professionalism

So lately I have become intrigued by the startling lack of professionalism in the world of customer service. I don't know if it's because I'm all kinds of negative and cynical; or if it's because, as I have witnessed as a middle school teacher, there is a pervasive apathy creeping through the country. Or it could be because I live in the Land of Entitlement (also known as "The OC"). But I have become saddened by this thing I have become privy to.

Yesterday I went to Starbucks for a little treat (the new Banana Chocolate Vivanno thing--my new tasty weakness). I ordered my beverage and wheeled the stroller over to the pick-up counter. I don't like to stand really close to it, because it's nerve-wracking to the poor baristas when people are staring at them while they work. But the store is pretty small, so while I wasn't in their faces I was still only maybe 5 or six feet away. One barista (a gentleman) picked up my labeled cup and let out an exasperated sigh. The ensuing conversation:

Barista 1: I HATE making these. They're such a pain in the ass.
2: Me too.
1: Will you do it?
2: Fine. But I hate these...they're such a pain.

Did they forget that they're in an open space with the customers standing right there? That just a few feet away is the person that ordered it? Are you kidding me?

I'm seriously the nicest customer. I've been there, and I know that there are a lot of rude, demanding people that come through. I say please and thank you, smile, and ask how they're doing. I try to be a bright spot in their day. And half the time I get ignored, and the other half I get gruff responses. I get that serving people can be difficult and can really try your patience. But does professionalism have to be saved for business men and women who wear suits and carry briefcases?

God has, of course, taken this opportunity to remind me of my own shortcomings in this area (isn't that just like him?). I know that when I worked at restaurants and at Starbucks that I was not always the consumate professional. So I want to take this time to apologize to you, to everyone, for those times that I did not treat my job or my customers with the utmost courtesy and respect. And I want to be better about being professional and respectful towards my students. I want to treat them as the children of God that they are.

God, please forgive me for my lack of professionalism, and please give me patience and grace when I encounter others.

Spiderman bandaids

Benjamin had his two month well-baby checkup today. Our big boy is 12 pounds 3.9 ounces (I was a little off before) and 24.5 inches. Dr. Plum said he's doing very well, and is even pretty advanced in some of the things he can do (sitting up, sleeping all night). Go Ben! He does, however, have a little head problem. Because of the hematoma on the left side of his head that he was born with (and has since gone), he has long preferred turning his head to the right when laying on his back. As a result, he has something called plagiocephaly. It just means that one side of his head is flatter than the other. It's not super serious--it should resolve itself with time.

He got three shots, which he was not into. He screamed like someone was trying to kill him. But he did get three spiderman bandaids (I'm sure he cares a lot), and he fell asleep as soon as he hit the carseat.

Random sidenote: The nurses and the doctor marveled at his long, luscious eyelashes. Sweet boy.

Random moments with the boy...

Baby Abercrombie.

Hello, my name is eyelashes.

I know...I feel the same way sometimes.

Literary Masterpiece of the Day

The other day when the Millers were walking around Barnes & Noble, I came upon the "Politics" display table. I circled the table once and noticed this little book nestled between a book about McCain and a book about Obama.

So I guess in between trimming his beard and fighting crime in Texas as "Walker: Texas Ranger," Mr. Norris had time to write a book about his musings on politics titled "Black Belt Patriotism."

To my chagrin he did not offer insight into politics like "Karate Chop the national debt" or "roundhouse kick to the face of America!" He simply offers his view on the current political culture and what needs to be done to reawaken America.

The parts I read were serious in tone and topic, but the cover makes me laugh every time I see it. It makes me wonder if he worked his way through all the other patriotic belts to become a black belt patriot. Was there a "All Valley" style political competition against Cobra Kai that Chuck took 1st place in?

I don't most people out there will think this is as funny as I do, but as my wife knows, I have a special pedigree of humor.

If you wish to know more about Mr.Norris check out this site. It is full of "facts" about Chuck Norris.

Favorite Chuck fact: Chuck Norris and Mr. T walked into a bar. The bar was instantly destroyed, as that level of awesome cannot be contained in one building.

Long Day's Journey into Night

So I'm not a big sharer. I mean, emotionally. I can share my toys, no problem; sometimes even to my detriment. Like this one time in college when I loaned my VHS copy of The Titanic to a friend, and I never got it back because he (yes, he) apparently liked to share, too. You can imagine how sad I still am about this.

Anyhow. While I have no problems with sharing my toys or my opinions (which other people may not always be so excited about), I do struggle with sharing myself. I've been burned a lot in the past (who hasn't?), and I am typically reluctant to unload my baggage onto others, even when they beg. So this blog thing is a stretch for me. An attempt to lighten that baggage load and maybe, just maybe, grow. So in the spirit of vulnerability and accountability, I share.

I've wanted to be a teacher since I was five. I know--most kids wanted to be a fireman or a ballerina. I wanted to stay in school forever. Nerd. But it's who I've always been. And sometimes that's been a struggle. Thanks to a dad who never accepted me no matter how hard I tried and a host of peers that did not necessarily crave the company of a scrawny girl in glasses who liked to read and play school for fun, I struggled with that part of my identity for a long time. It wasn't until later in college that I really embraced the nerd that I was. And even since then it's been a long, hard journey into discovering who I really am, who I want to be, and really accepting myself in all of my glory. And it's really only been in the last couple of years that I've gotten there, or at least nearly. To a place where, nasty faults and all, I really know and like me.

And then I got pregnant. Nine months later, I became a mother. And since then, the rest of my self, all of those parts that I had discovered and learned to love as me, seemed to disappear. My whole life is this little, wonderful guy. Please don't get me wrong--Ben is my world. But in the midst of it, I feel like I lost my self. The first month, even beyond, I was, to be honest, miserable. I cried all the time. I doubted everything I did. And by the time five or six weeks had passed and the hardest part was coming to a close, I realized that I didn't even recognize myself. I feel wretched and selfish every time I think to myself, "Can I just give him back for a day so I can lay on the couch all day, watch TV, and read?"

The constant stream of society's conflicting messages doesn't help. If you let him cry himself to sleep, he will grow up insecure and think you don't love him. If you keep holding him and rocking him to sleep he will depend on you forever. If you don't breastfeed, you don't love him. If you breastfeed at your own expense and make yourself crazy in the process, you won't be any good to him. If you stay at home, you're a blot on women's rights. If you go to work, you're a terrible mother. Clearly I'm exaggerating. The heart of the matter, however, is there. No matter what I do I'm failing somehow.

It's taken me 28 years to develop a modicum of self confidence. And now, in the time it took to deliver my baby, I feel like I'm back at the beginning.

I had a conversation with this woman that I know that made me both sad and terrified. She is a mother, and a very good one. I asked her what she liked to do for fun. She said to be with her kids. I asked her what she liked to do with her free time when she is not with her kids (which, since they have all left home, is a lot of time). She had no answer for me. In the course of a fairly long conversation, I discovered that she couldn't think of any favorite books, pasttimes, or hobbies that didn't involve her kids. All of her dreams and desires rested on her kids. I asked her what she did before she had kids. She listed all kinds of things. When I asked why she didn't do them anymore, she said that once you have kids you can't do the things you love anymore. You only do the things your kids love.

I have to know that I'm still me. That, while I'm having a little identity crisis now, I will someday be a better version of myself, with the core pieces of my old self intact. I have to know that God did not create me to be a smart, clever, passionate person who loves reading and art and theatre only to give it all up at 29. I love my son more than I ever thought possible until the moment they placed him on my stomach at 12:16 am. But I need to know that Ben's mom is more than a mom. She's a whole, complete person with interests and desires. I know that with motherhood comes sacrifices, and I'm in. But does my personality have to go down on that altar? If so, then it goes. But if not, when do I get it back? How do I once again find that person I finally came to love?




This long, self-indulgent rant is brought to you by my dusty Barnes and Noble and library membership cards.

stupid billboard of the day

Seriously? Every egg wants to become a sandwich and be eaten rather than be born and become a chicken?

Okay.

Babies Everywhere

My dear friend Heathyr and I have been friends since sixth grade, and our birthdays are only three days apart. And now God has blessed us with the extraordinary gift of having little boys just six days apart!

Yesterday Heathyr and I were finally able to get our little guys together.It doesn't seem that long ago that Heathyr and I were just kids ourselves. And now here we are, with husbands, houses, careers, and kids of our own.

Life goes by fast, and we grow up all too soon.

Cherish these moments, James and Ben (and Heathyr and Shannon). Before we know it we'll be trading onesies for graduation gowns.

Shiver me timbers

Pirate Ben wishes you a very happy Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Old Clothes and New Diapers

So today I bought a new bathroom scale at Target. Our old one was crap, and these were on sale (thanks to The Biggest Loser, apparently). My goal in purchasing a new scale was not to find out how much I weigh. Why would I want to know that? What I really wanted to know was how much Ben weighs. Since the old scale was, of course, crap, and he hasn't had a doctor appointment since he was two weeks old, I really had no idea.

12 pounds, 13 ounces.

He's been starting to outgrow his clothes and diapers. First we boxed the newborn clothes and graduated from newborn diapers to size 1. Now we're starting to box the 0-3 month clothes and move on to size 2.


We're growing up together.

2 months old

Dear Benjamin,

Today you are two months old. Sometimes it's almost as if I don't remember a time in my life before there was you, and it's hard to believe it's only been two months. At other times, it seems like this whirlwind, and it's hard to believe it's already been two months. One thing I do know--my life is infinitely better with you in it, my love.

Allow me to tell you the story of your first two months.

The day you were born was a surprise. You were going to be due in three weeks, and I went to the doctor for a checkup. He told me you were going to be born very soon! So he sent me to the hospital for the doctors there to look at me. They told me you were going to be born that day! So they checked me in at 2:00 in the afternoon. After a very long day, you finally came at 12:16 in the morning on Thursday, July 17, 2008. You weighed 7 pounds 2.3 ounces, and you were 19 1/2 inches long. You had big blue eyes, a little bit of hair (we couldn't tell what color), bright red lips, and long fingers and toes. Everyone thought you were so cute, and that you looked just like your daddy.
After a couple of days, you started to turn a yellowish-orange color. This was because you had a bump on your head that gave you jaundice.
So we had a nurse come over every morning for almost a week to take care of you, and all day and all night you had to be strapped to a special blanket that helped the jaundice go away. We were very sad because we couldn't hold you very much since you had to be in your crib strapped to the blanket. But we were glad you didn't have to go back to the hospital. After about four days, the jaundice was gone, and the blanket came off! You were all pink and cute. You weighed about 6 pounds 8 ounces then, and you were so very tiny!

For the first two weeks you just slept and snuggled. Your favorite place to sleep was on Mommy and Daddy's chest. You didn't cry very much, and you were a very good baby.
When you were about three weeks old you started to be awake more, and you were able to do a few more things. You could lift your head up and turn it from side to side. You loved to be on your tummy. You also started to be colicky, which means that you cried a lot at night. But that didn't last long.
When you turned one month old, it was the same day as Mommy and Daddy's one year anniversary. So we got you all dressed up and took you for a picnic in the park. You slept the whole time.
As time passed, you were more awake and alert, and you were able to do more things. When you were five weeks old, you could hold your head up straight and steady when we held you sitting. You could also stand a little and put weight on your legs when we stood you up!
When you were 5 weeks old, you had your first hair cut!And on August 25, at 5 1/2 weeks, you finally had your first smile! It was the best day we had since you were born.Since then, you've been growing and smiling and learning like crazy. You love your bath, and when we put the little tub in the bathroom sink, you stare at yourself in the mirror the whole time. When we put the baby tub in the big tub, you splash around and even smile.You also love wearing jammies, and when you sleep you have funny poses. Most often you have your arms up by your sweet face.When you were six weeks old, you started to play more. Your favorite toy is your Horton stuffed animal, and you will lay on the floor and smile, coo, and stare at him for a long time.
The weekend of September 6, when you were seven weeks old, was big for you. On Saturday night you went to the nursery at church for the first time! The volunteers said you were very good. You just looked around and watched the whole time, and you didn't cry or fuss until the very end. When we take you to church, you seem to like the music. It calms you when you cry, and eventually you fall asleep.

That same Saturday, you held a rattle all on your own for the first time. You didn't seem to notice or care, but you did it all the same.The next day, you rolled over for the first time! You haven't done it again since, so it was probably just a chance accident. But it was very exciting for us. Afterward there was an elephant stampede.
You are a very social baby. You have had many visitors over the last two months, and you are content to be held by and to play with all of them. You seem quite content and happy most of the time. You love to cuddle and to play in your Baby Einstein gym.You also love to play with Mommy and Daddy. When we play peek-a-boo and tickle your lip, you smile really big, which makes us melt.
Dearest Benjamin, thank you for a wonderful first two months. We love you so very much, and we can't wait to see what comes next!

love, Mommy

Weekend o' fun

So I have spent the last couple of weeks putting Ben on a bit of a schedule. Nothing rigid or soul-crushing--just something a little more predictable. While I love the idea of a "whatever" kind of day (or a "whatever" kind of life, for that matter), it doesn't really fit me. And I think it would be much better for my mom, who will be taking care of Ben when I go back to work (sigh). So....after several days of tears and dark circles under the eyes, Ben has settled into a nice routine. And then this weekend came. Admittedly, I was nervous. Again, while I'd like to be the kind of person who can do spontaneity, I'm not. I like to know what's coming, and I'm not a big fan of surprises. Just ask those who have attempted surprise parties and my sweet husband, who really learned my distaste for surprises when the stick (or four sticks, I should say) turned pink. See, Matt's parents have been trying to come down to see Ben since he was born, and for various reasons haven't been able to. They finally picked what was for them the perfect weekend, but for me was the day of my dear friend's wedding. They had already purchased plane tickets, so there was no rearranging. Sadly, I had to say good-bye to the wedding (and Ben's first real trip). To be honest, I was quite sad. I've known Kylee and her family since I was two. Her older brother and his wife had a baby a couple of days after Ben was born, and this weekend we were going to get together for the first time in a couple of years. I was, however, very excited about Matt's mom and step-dad finally getting to meet little B. With this excitement, though, came a great deal of anxiety. This would be the first time we'd have visitors for more than a couple of hours. I should also add that for some time feeding was, and to some extent still is, anxiety-provoking and arduous. I am a very modest and private person, so feeding him in public is not something I can see myself doing. On top of that, Ben does not feed like a civilized person, so public feeding would be anything but discrete, no matter what I would attempt. And since Matt's family would be here for twelve solid hours and Ben needs to eat every 2-3 hours--well, you see the difficultly I had. I was just imagining a day fully of me having to entertain (which I'm not good at) and Ben crying because I was a stress case and he was having trouble napping...in short, I was a bit terrified.

The day of course went better than I anticipated. It was hectic and a bit stressful, yes. But it was really nice to spend time with them, and Ben was so good. We went to breakfast, then came back to our place. I fed Ben (in his room while the fam hung out in the living room), then we played a little and went to Costco. Then we came home and I fed him again, then we played a little and went to lunch. The afternoon was nice and relaxing. I fed Ben, then we took a family nap and just hung out. We topped off our day with a nice dinner, and then we dropped Matt's parents off at the airport. It was a good day, and we wish we could have had more time. But we were blessed to have had the time that we did, so we are grateful. And I'm super thankful that Ben was such a champ. He was really social, and he fed and napped just fine. :)


Today was also quite nice. We had a nice relaxing morning. Ben played in his new Baby Einstein gym that his Grammy and Grandpa Carl got him. He loves it, which is fun and entertaining.

After our laid back morning we had some more visitors. Our friends Andrew and Elise came with their kids Jack and Annabelle. They hung out for about an hour, and Ben was, again, wonderful. He smiled and played, and the kids were really sweet to him.


After they left, Ben took a nice long nap while Matt and I watched Grey's Anatomy Season 4 (hey, everyone deserves a guilty pleasure). Ben woke up and we fed him and played for a while, then we had family nap time. We topped off our day with pizza and Mythbusters, followed by a little walk.



All in all, it was a wonderful weekend. We were way more active and social than we have been hitherto (isn't it great when you can use words like that?). I was really nervous about that--again, I have this neurosis that makes me afraid of change and failure. But I'm finding that as the days go by, my fears and feelings of inadequacy as a mother are slowly, albeit molasses slowly, abating. I know that I will probably never feel completely comfortable in my new shoes (and socks, and pants, and shirt). I will probably always feel some twinge of guilt or fear or anxiety. But I know that God did not bring this happy little surprise named Benjamin only to let me fail. It's going to be hard, and sometimes even terrifying (not unlike this weekend). But I know that we'll be just fine. And someday I will feel more confident. Someday I will feel like myself again. Until that day, I will do my best to relish the journey.

Conforming to the masses...

So apparently blogging is all the rage with the kids these days. And apparently when you have babies the pressure to be a sheep is exacerbated. And so we caved...

I have no idea what we will blog about, but blog we will. And I assure you, whatever we have to share will make you a more complete human being. It will be deep, insightful, and probably imbued with humor and class. Because that's who we are--deep, insightful, funny, and classy people.

I leave you with a rather lovely photo of our offspring.

Testing...A slideshow of Ben

So we caved to peer pressure...

So here is the first post on our first blog. We are still trying to figure out all the bells and whistles, so don't be surprised to see a few "happy mistakes" (to quote Bob Ross).

Oh...and this is Matt writing this entry, not Shannon. Me no type good.